Chasing the CEO (The CEO duet Book 1)

by Cecilia Campos

  “I wish he would tie my hands with that tie and pull kinky Fifty Shades of John-stuff on me. That shit would be so rough that it would never have made it into the movie and it would never have been dared written down. Of course, John would get to keep on that suit while he fucks me.”

  She sighs and looks at his ass as he walks up to the champagne bar. Well, what can I say to that? I can understand why she has those thoughts. She’s right about John, he is very yum.

  In the pit of my stomach, I can feel my nerves beginning to gather their forces. In a while, I will put my next sexcapade with the American Adonis into action.

  “Do I have something stuck between my teeth?” I show Tiger my teeth. She checks them out thoroughly and shakes her head. “And there are no stains or other weird things on my butt?” I ask her, just in case.

  “Nope, and you don’t have any toilet paper stuck to your shoes either.” She thinks she’s so freaking funny. She smiles at me sheepishly—a smile that is accompanied by a snorting sound from her nose. It sounds a lot like a chuckling piggy.

  “Have you seen him yet?” she asks, scanning the room.

  John approaches us with three glasses of champagne. He takes quick, small steps and has a mischievous look in his eyes, as if he has something very interesting to share with us. Handing us our drinks, he whispers, “He’s over there, left of the champagne bar,” and points with his chin. “But don’t look right away.”

  Of course, we were already looking and now try to avert our gazes as quickly as we can manage. If this won’t give us whiplash, I don’t know what will.

  Sure enough, there he is, talking to his German counterpart. And of course, his harem is close by. As I stare, I allow my thoughts to wander. As soon as I’ve finished licking his neck later on, I’ll work my way across his chest with my teeth and tongue. Then, I’ll hook my nails in his upper arms while I bite his tongue ... This man gets me turned on in such an aggressive kind of way.

  He seems to be caught up in the conversation completely and doesn’t notice me. The adrenaline is teasing my veins and gives me the courage I need. I knock back my drink and announce, “And so it begins. My mission is about to kick off!”

  With my empty glass, I walk towards the bar. I make sure I accidentally bump him with my elbow as I pass by. He steps aside to make room and nods in a polite sort of way. It all happens very fast and by the time I get new glasses of champagne at the bar, he’s already completely absorbed in his conversation again.

  Okay, this may not be as easy as I thought. That wasn’t the reaction I was hoping for. A little disappointed, I return to the group where Booty Boy is bouncing up and down enthusiastically. “Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God! I love this song! Come on, let’s hit the dance floor!”

  The DJ that was contracted for this evening plays a terrific mix of old nineties records and new popular hits. From golden oldies like “Pump up the Jam” and MC Hammer to the newest dance hits by the Chainsmokers and Kanye West. I have a very broad taste in music, but behind the DJ, however, there is a large screen that shows all the videos of the songs with the corresponding titles and artist names.

  Later on, when the music slows down a little, me and Booty Boy find some high tables and take a break as Johnny Bravo and Tiger get us some drinks.

  “So?” I ask Booty Boy. “How is it going with those hot guys?” I gesture to the still pretty occupied dance floor with my chin. A slower song is playing now. I think it’s “King City” by Majid Jordan. I have that one on my Spotify.

  “Nope, I already know most of the people and that won’t work out. There are some new faces, but my gaydar sends me all these mixed signals. As long as I’m not sure they’re gay, I don’t want to make a move. It wouldn’t be the first time I got a fist in my pretty face. Don’t feel like that today.” The normally very cheerful Booty Boy turns his sad gaze to his feet.

  Fortunately, it doesn’t last long, because the moment Johnny Bravo—yes, we will stick to that party name, even though he thinks it’s childish—and Tiger return to us with the drinks, his face lights up. Wow, I didn’t know a drink could make him this happy. The reason that his mood changes so quickly eludes me completely.

  Johnny hands us our drinks. “Here you are, you hot sexy mammas.” Apparently, he’s embraced his party name after all. I’ve hardly sipped from my drink when I see Booty Boy’s face turn red. It’s redder than red. Purple, almost.

  Suddenly, I understand the mood change in Billy. It’s not the booze, it’s John. “I think Booty Boy likes it when you call him hot sexy mamma, Johnny.” I gesture at Billy while I say that, but Tiger doesn’t hear me over the music and has no clue about what I’m saying. So, I clarify by pointing at Billy’s flushed head and then back at John while winking. Then she understands. Her eyes grow wide and her eyebrows rise so high, they almost reach her hairline.

  “Booty Boy’s in love with Johnny Bravo!” I hear her shout over the music.

  That cracks us all up. All of us, except Billy, who walks away from us with an ashamed expression on his face, like a toddler not getting his way. Tiger follows him immediately to comfort him.

  “Maybe we should think of a better nickname for me, Palermo. I don’t know whether Johnny Bravo is the best suited.” He looks serious, but has a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. I know that look: he’s about to say something funny. “I’ve always had this feeling that Johnny Bravo was gay!”

  DURING THE REST OF the evening, I try to attract Sebastian’s attention in all sorts of ways. Accidentally bumping into him or dancing near him, but nothing works. My plan is threatening to fail.

  My mission was so simple. The plan only had two steps. One, I would seduce him, and two, not much later, Sebastian would make me come.

  My alternative plan—Plan B, so to say—was just as simple. Johnny Bravo would dance with me to make Sebastian jealous and attract his attention that way. Not much later, Sebastian would make me come.

  In short.

  But now, with all the alcohol rushing through my body, both plans sound pretty stupid all of a sudden.

  An important condition for a successful execution of both plans is that I actually get the chance to talk to him. To make contact in some way. But even that seems hopeless. It frustrates me so much, I decide to get extremely drunk and not think about it anymore.

  “DID YOU SEE THAT HUGE ass in that slutty purple dress?” I hear a woman say. I’m on the toilet and can hear some American women gossip while they wait in line. That remark startles me so much I stop peeing, so I can hear more. Looking underneath the door of my stall, I can see a couple of fancy high stilettos and conclude immediately these are Sebastian’s women.

  “She looks ridiculous in that! That entire groups she’s with is unbearable. Do those people actually work here?”

  Another voice joins the conversation. “Yes, I think I need to have a serious chat with the HR Manager of this place. Maybe see if we can get that scum off the payroll!” The women laugh out loud.

  Suddenly, someone bangs on my door and startles me.

  “How much longer?” the annoyed voice on the other side of the doors inquires.

  “I’ll be out in a minute, sorry.”

  Poop salad with gorgonzola sauce! If I come out now, they’ll see me and know I heard everything. They are so mean. Does Sebastian know how awful these bitches are? I can hardly imagine he does. What should I do now? While my drunken brain tries to figure out what to do at a hundred miles per hour, I can suddenly hear them walk away, talking. I hear the clickity-clack of their high heels as they leave the restroom and walk up the hallway, gossiping all the way.

  Oh good, apparently, they weren’t waiting in line for the toilet after all. What a relief! But they were talking about me. I think. How many women in tight purple dresses with a big ass are here tonight?

  Those bitches are bad news. A tyrannic trinity, apparently. I think it’s best to stay as far away from them as possible. Why are they targeting me? They hav
e no reason for that at all, do they? What threat could I possibly be to them? At this moment, I’m too wasted to answer that question sensibly. I will not let those bitches upset me. I still have a mission to accomplish.

  WHEN THE DJ STARTS playing Sia’s “Wilde Ones,” Booty Boy goes nuts. He jumps up and down and screams with delight. We look at him, puzzled, but then he points at the text on his shirt. “I am a wild one! I am a wild one!” He raises his voice even more to try and be heard over the music.

  “If you’re so wild, why don’t you do something wild?” Tiger challenges him.

  “What do you mean? There’s no one wilder than me, honey!” He raises one eyebrow and pouts his lips. Meanwhile, he bites his index finger and tilts his head. I think he means something naughty, not wild.

  Johnny says, “If you’re so wild, Booty Guy ...”

  “Not Booty Guy, Booty Boy!” I clarify.

  “Okay, Booty Boy, why don’t you go find some nice butt cheeks to pinch, huh? You were looking for your next lover, were you not? Well, go for it. Action!”

  I can see Billy’s mind working, but not for very long. “Challenge accepted!”

  With a determined face, he hands me his drink and starts scanning the room. He walks through the crowd, looking for some nice butts. He points at men here and there who are dancing. With a questioning look, he indicates he needs our opinion. Fortunately, the men in question are not at all aware of what is going on.

  “I cannot believe he’s doing that,” Tiger whispers in my ear.

  “He has guts, I give him that!” I sip my drink while I slowly sway to the music.

  When he points at the first guy, we all shake our heads. Unanimously, we feel that booty is not Booty Boy-worthy.

  He walks away calmly and stops at a group of people dancing in the corner of the room. He points at a nice round booty in tight jeans. The man is very muscular and a good dancer as well, as far as I can see, moving smoothly to the music.

  We nod our heads enthusiastically, telling him to go for it. He jumps up cheerfully and right away, he pinches the man’s butt.

  The guy turns around, startled, and looks at Billy with a mad look in his eyes. Oops! Billy’s face turns maroon! I can see him saying something to the man and making a dismissive gesture. His body shrinks a couple of inches while he makes his way back to us.

  “Why the long face?”

  “That will be very awkward on Monday...” He takes his drink and knocks it back in one gulp.

  “Why?” I want to know. “Tell us!”

  “That was my supervisor!”

  If our lives were a highway, my navigation system would be broken.

  Chapter 9 - Pillow talk

  NINA

  Deep in the night, there are only a handful of people left. In my drunken state of mind, I can see him standing alone at the edge of the dance floor. He’s standing against a pillar with one leg on the floor and one propped up against the pillar and bent at the knee. He is so hot, steam seems to be coming off of him. He radiates pure sex and he’s looking at me. We have contact! Finally! My heart does a little somersault.

  I quickly look around and fortunately, I don’t see his harem, the tyrannic trinity, anywhere. On the dance floor, I see Johnny and Tiger dry humping. Get a room! Booty Boy went up to his room an hour ago, saying he needed his beauty sleep. So much for the motley crew.

  My favorite song comes up. Oh, yes. “Pillow talk” by Zayn. It has such a romantic vibe and the perfect rhythm to slow dance to. Or make love to.

  After a couple of opening chords, a strong male voice begins to sing. This is my moment. I decide to use my sexiest dance moves, right in front of him. I can’t wait to see the effect. I pretend I don’t see him standing there as it’s still my intention to let him hunt me instead of the other way around.

  I’ve played this song so many times in my truck. I realize now how much the lyrics apply to my current situation, about how much I would love to make contact with him. How much I desire him, this handsome, mysterious man.

  My hips sway back and forth in the most tempting way to the slow groove. I move my arms up and down again, letting them caress my neck seductively. They travel the sides of my breasts and slide further down to my stomach, while I spin around and throw my head back.

  In my case, size does matter. The size of my ass, my boobs, my eyes. Luckily, I’m blessed in all three areas, but that’s not enough. It matters how you use them as well. How you move, how you look, how you dress. And as I’m dancing like this in front of him, I put all these skills to use to reach my goal.

  Is he looking? I don’t dare check, but I think I can feel his eyes on me. Suddenly, I can feel someone behind me. I hope it’s him. I smell that same citrusy, masculine scent and feel his hot breath in my neck. Then a hand grabs me from behind and pulls me. Yes! Finally!

  I don’t understand why it took so long. I’ve been trying to make contact with him the entire night. Maybe he waited until everyone else was gone or too drunk to remember anything. Like now. If that’s so, it’s actually pretty smart, because, come to think of it, it wouldn’t look very professional dancing in this sexy way with a co-worker in front of everybody.

  Slowly, I look up and to my right, but what I see is a complete stranger nosing my neck. He looks down seductively while swaying to the rhythm. To my astonishment, it’s not him!

  Fucking hell! Jesus! What do I do now? Where is Sebastian? And who is this guy I’m dancing with? I’ve never seen him before. He is sexy, though. Hmmmm. No, no, no, Nina, don’t get distracted now, stick to the plan. After all, this guy doesn’t have the same pull on me I felt with Sebastian.

  I keep dancing like there’s nothing wrong and glance around in a subtle way, hoping to spot him. Is he seeing this? While I continue moving, I feel a second hand grab me from behind to pull me in even closer. Oh dear, I hope this doesn’t end badly. I have to stop this.

  I turn around so we are face to face, and while I do, I make sure to create more space between us. His blue eyes sparkle mischievously as he puts both hands on my hips. He’s clearly enjoying this.

  Then I scan the room over his right shoulder and detect two furious eyes looking back at me. It’s Sebastian. He looks like he’s about to explode. He glances up briefly and sighs, as if trying to get himself under control and then directs his intense gaze back to me. Oops! I don’t think he appreciates me dancing with this guy!

  That’s plain stupid! I’ve been trying to attract his attention the entire night with zero result. Nothing, nada, niente. And now he’s offended because I’m dancing with another man? He has absolutely no right to react like that! Still, I don’t want to send him the wrong signal. I want him. I don’t want anyone else.

  “Thanks for the dance,” I tell the stranger, pulling myself free from his grip.

  “My name is Peter,” I hear him shout in English, but I’m off. My plan is to walk straight up to Sebastian, but he’s no longer there. The dance floor’s empty and there’s no sign of him in the hallway either.

  Fuck-a-duck! Did I scare him off? Apparently, Mission Impossible was the soundtrack to this night after all ...

  BY NOW, JOHNNY AND Tiger are nowhere to be found and it’s about time. It seems that mission hard to get or get him hard failed too. Or did it? As far as my own mission is concerned, well, that didn’t turn out exactly the way I wanted either.

  When I was dancing with Peter, Sebastian seemed jealous. Or maybe he was angry? Any which way, it didn’t lead to any actions from his side.

  I decide this night has been a complete disaster and go to find my room. What was my room number again? Pulling the keycard from my bra, I check it, hoping my room number will be on it. Oh no, now that I think about it, the room number was on the keycard envelope. The one I left on my bed because it was too thick to stuff into my bra.

  Okay, stay calm, Nina. Surely, you can remember where your room is. I’m sure it’s somewhere on the second floor.

  Stepping out of the elevator,
I look to the right. I’m sure that’s right anyway ... yes, it all looks familiar. That plant looks familiar so I must be at the right place. I walk through the narrow hallways, hoping to be able to recognize my room. Every door looks just like the other. I turn left and left again. It gets me a little dizzy. Maybe I shouldn’t have taken that last drink. Oh ... Please don't let me puke in the middle of the hallway. Just as I'm about to let myself slide to the floor, I feel two strong arms lift me up.

  “I've got you,” someone whispers in my ear. At the same time, my drunken brain registers the same electricity I felt earlier today when he touched me. It's him. Sebastian. Before I can even begin to understand what's going on, he's already got me on the move and through a door.

  “This is my room,” he says, pushing me inside quickly.

  “I can't find my room.” Confused, I look around, trying to make him understand how desperate I am.

  “Yes, I figured. You can rest here for a while, if you like. We can try to find it later.”

  “But... I don't want to puke all over your room.” I'm extremely embarrassed these are the first words I say to him tonight. Once again, things are not going the way I want them to. Nothing new there.

  “Come, my bathroom's over here. Use it.”

  I CAN'T BELIEVE I'M here. How did this happen? It all went so fast all of a sudden. Without any warning, he pushed me into his room, just like that. As if he didn’t want anyone to see it. Now I’m here in his bathroom, trying to compose myself a little. Afraid of what I might see, I hardly dare to look in the mirror. Taking a few deep breaths, I try to calm myself. Cold water on my face also helps to get a clearer head, even if it’s just a little.

  I will not puke. I will not puke.

  “Is there anything I can do for you?” I hear him ask from the other side of the door.

  His voice startles me. “No, no, I’m fine, I’ll be right out.” I need to focus and get back in line, that’s all. Come on, Nina, you can do it.